His Unrequited Lover

Chapter Nineteen: No More

A N G E L A

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, I shifted to the right to snuggle more into the duvet around me, but completely woke to the smell of bacon, sweet rice, and toast.

My favorite.

I threw the sheets off of me and tried to manuever myself around the bed but ended up falling to the floor because of the aching between my thighs.

"Fuck," I hissed loudly as I braced myself on the corner of the bed to pick myself up

"Angel!" Carter's concerned voice found my ears immediately as he entered the room

He was shirtless and wore grey sweatpants with black socks. His brown hair was disheveled on the top of his head and he held a spatula in his hand.

I almost laughed at his panicked state, but the throb between my legs returned and almost knocked me off of my feet.

"Well don't stand there, come help me up," I finally grunted, still holding onto the bed

My words must've kickstarted his brain because he walked over to me and picked me up in one swift motion, causing me to gasp in surprise.

He turned around then carried me out of the room and down the stairs to enter the lavish kitchen. My lips parted as my eyes widened and scanned over the room in absolute awe and admiration.

There was a long dark grey table in the center of the kitchen that had five black low seated chairs surrounding it with gold plates and cutlery in front of them. There was a dark grey refridgerator and tall glass window to the left of the table and a sink and counter across from it. The countertop was connected to a layer of over-head and lower cabinets and had shimmery golden bottles of soap and wine glasses coating the sleek surface. The stove was placed to the right of the table and the smell of food intensified as we approached the table.

"Are you alright?" He asked once he placed me in one of the chairs

"Yeah, I smelled food so I tried to see what you were making," I answered with a slight blush

He chuckled and shook his head then walked around me to approach the stove, "Right. Well I'm making your favorite breakfast. Bacon, sweet rice, and toast,"

My eyes lit up as his words and the fact that he remembered my favorite breakfast, but my mouth never moved to thank him. I didn't expect him to remember it after six years.

Noticing my silence, he looked over his shoulder with a smirk, "You thought I forgot, didn't you?"

My blushed deepened to one of embarassment and I looked down at the table, not wanting to respond.

I heard him chuckle once more before he opened one of the over head cabinets to grab something. I looked up at him as he grabbed two white glass plates with blue and swirly designs on them. They were absolutely beautiful and I loved that he chose the blue ones since I knew he probably had other colors in there.

I smiled softly as he closed the cabinet and returned his attention to the stove. I simply watched him as his back muscles tensed with every move he made and bit my lip when I looked over his tattoos. He had so many of them stretching over his arms, hands, and back and I disliked that I didn't notice them before.